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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660689">A Big Fan of Improvisation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(JK none of these things are sex toys), BDSM, Bondage, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), F/F, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Humiliation, Improvised Sex Toys, Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), Nipple Clamps, Object Insertion, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Squirting, use of a mood ring in place of a safeword</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:35:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,214</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley has Aziraphale at her mercy. Her mercies are not especially tender. Aziraphale has no complaints.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Good Omens Kink Meme Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Big Fan of Improvisation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The prompt was, in essence, that someone's pussy get stuffed with whatever was laying around, and I definitely wrote that.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale always seemed bigger as a woman. She was the same height she was as a man, had the same generous swell of stomach, and the same plush thighs, but her hips were wider and more well-padded, and her tits, well...<br/>
<br/>
"I swear, you give yourself bigger and bigger tits every time," Crowley grumbled, or at least made a good approximation of a grumble. "Everyone can tell how much you want me to play with them. No need to go through so much effort." She tugged on the hanger. It was a hanger meant for trousers, with two clips on the rung. Currently, it was clipped onto Aziraphale's nipples. It knew better than to let up on its grip without Crowley's say-so, which just meant that Crowley could tug on it to her heart's content. She pulled harder, and Aziraphale arched her back beautifully, making a noise of terrible disappointment behind her gag when Crowley let go.<br/>
<br/>
The gag was a sock monkey, originally. They were improvising today: sock monkey gag, hanger nipple clamps, Aziraphale's own suspenders to bind her wrists to her thighs, her own knee-length socks to keep her legs apart, one fastened to a leg of Crowley's throne, and the other to a leg of Crowley's desk. She looked glorious, all ruddy flush and golden stretch marks, all her soft, soft skin writhing against the new dark granite of Crowley's flooring.<br/>
<br/>
"You're just so needy, Aziraphale," she said, rummaging around in one of the bags she had kept from her time as Warlock's nanny. It was mostly for show, the rummaging. She already knew what she was pulling out next. "It doesn't matter how much I give you, you're always desperate for more. How many times did I let you eat me out last night, hm? Six, seven? And then I hooked you up overnight to that machine I caught you wanking over, so you could maybe, <em>maybe</em> be satisfied by the time I woke up. But no, I walked in this morning and the very first thing you did was beg me for more." She held up an American-style football. It wasn't full-sized, but it wasn't exactly small either.<br/>
<br/>
Aziraphale's eyes widened. Her hips twitched up. Crowley grinned, rubbed the end of the football with a bit of lube, and began to work it into Aziraphale's cunt.<br/>
<br/>
She kept a close eye on Aziraphale as she did so. They didn't have a safeword, exactly. They had a collar set with a stone that Crowley would deny with her dying breath was inspired by the mood ring fad all the way back into the seventies. The predominant color was scarlet, which it should be: that meant that Aziraphale was aroused. It was edged with a lighter shade of pink (trust) and a darker shade of maroon (love), and shot through with jagged bolts of lilac (excitement).<br/>
<br/>
There was also turquoise in equal amounts to the lilac, indicating that Aziraphale was feeling humiliated, embarrassed. That was also as it should be. That was the sort of game they'd been playing these last few days. There were also a few threads of green for anxiety, but who would Aziraphale be if she wasn't a little anxious? There was also some grey, indicating pain, but her angel liked some pain with her pleasure.<br/>
<br/>
If Aziraphale ever hit a hard limit, ever wanted to stop- not pause, not take a moment to talk things through, but <em>stop</em>- the stone would turn jet black. They hadn't meant to test that, exactly, but it had happened a while back, and a part of Crowley was glad for the confirmation that it did work as intended.<br/>
<br/>
Aziraphale came. Crowley did her best to continue to push the football in without acknowledging it in any way- with this sort of game it was better to pretend like Aziraphale's pleasure was an interesting sidenote at most. It was hard, though. It was a pretty intense orgasm: Aziraphale managed to jerk the throne a few inches closer to them, and she squirted with enough force that some of it got on Crowley's chest.<br/>
<br/>
Crowley glared, and the throne slide back to where it was meant to stay. "You could open a water park in here sometimes, the way you come angel, seriously," she scoffed. "You're so wet I might forgo the lube when I fuck into that arsehole of yours, just use your own juices instead."<br/>
<br/>
Aziraphale whined.<br/>
<br/>
"What? You didn't think I was going to fuck that cunt of yours, did you?" Crowley asked, putting as much disdain as she could muster up into her voice. "After I put all this work into stretching it out?"<br/>
<br/>
Aziraphale whimpered, but that probably was at least in part because Crowley had gotten past the midpoint with the football, and the rest of it was begin sucked in greedily.<br/>
<br/>
"I mean, I'm not even sure you can feel that," Crowley said with a cruel smirk. She reached behind her, but not before grabbing hold of the hanger again and pulling Aziraphale's tits back with her a bit. Aziraphale moaned, and then moaned again at the sight of what she held in her hand: a baseball bat. "So let me make sure you can feel that."<br/>
<br/>
She released the hanger and rested the end of the baseball bat against Aziraphale's bruise-red cunt, rubbing against her big, swollen clit and her cum-stained blonde curls until the end of the football began to poke out again. Then she began to press in.<br/>
<br/>
Aziraphale warbled behind her gag, as pretty as any songbird, so Crowley pressed a little harder.<br/>
<br/>
The football was only the latest thing stuffed into her cunt. It already contained an empty jar of vitamins, a small flashlight (batteries removed), a bit of plastic in the shape of a snail, a pen, and a beaker cup. She wasn't just pressing the football deeper in, she was jostling all that around inside Aziraphale.<br/>
<br/>
She was close to coming again, probably only minutes away. Once she did, Crowley would put away the bat, and wait for her to push out at least some of the objects she was currently stuffed with. She'd pulled the clips on the hanger closer together until her angel's tits were pressed against one another firmly, and then she'd fuck her prick between them, come all over her angel's pretty face. Whatever was still inside after that would come out the old fashioned way- by Crowley reaching her hand in Aziraphale's cunt and pulling them out.<br/>
<br/>
It wouldn't remain empty for long. Deep in the bottom of the bag was a bottle of whiskey she (along with every other of the Dowlings' employees) had received at Christmas one year. The whiskey itself was very poor quality, and almost as if to make up for that, the bottle itself was <em>very</em> big. It was the perfect size for filling Aziraphale's cunt while Crowley fucked her arse.<br/>
<br/>
Not that she'd jump straight to that, of course. No, if there was one thing bigger than her angel's appetites it was Crowley's indulgence of them. She'd fuck Aziraphale with that bottle until her angel was insensate, and then she'd fuck her tight little arsehole.<br/>
<br/>
Tight for now, at least. But they could work on that later.</p>
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